Brother (Frerard)

I sit awkwardly across from him, still plagued with the shame of my wife's dreadful behaviour towards Frank. He stares at the menu, his eyes searching for a decision. I keep my view on him, my mind racing with dozens of questions and still no confidence to ask the, . A cute petite brunette girl in an apron approaches our table.
"What can I get you tonight gorgeous?" She beams at me.
"I'll have the Fettuccine please," I reply shyly. She seems so happy and bubbly, genuine. A nice change to the days earlier events.
"What about you honey?"
"I'll just have the Cesar Salad, thanks,"
"Awesome, drinks?"
"Water and a Coke," I say, ordering for us both. Frank would always drink water with his salad, I remember. Frank gives me a polite smile as the waitress bounces away with our orders.

"Are you okay Frank?" I whisper, breaking the silence between us that began when we left.
"I am more than okay. Are you?"
"Very. Are you sure though? Why did you come to dinner Frank?" I question. I have so many things to ask, but with each new question comes a new feeling.
"I'm okay. I came because I wanted to,"
"But why?"
"Is that not good enough?" Frank questions, an agitated edge to his tone. I remain silent, wishing I could have another smoke to break the uncomfortableness between us.
"Listen, Gee. I'm at dinner with you because I want to be. I'm here in L.A. with you, because you invited me and I accepted. Despite all concerns and doubts, I got on that plane anyway and now I'm here. I texted you back because you gave me the opportunity to and it was too good to let is slide by without so much as a second thought. All this was because I missed you and I spent a small part of everyday hoping you were thinking about me. I hoped you missed me too and wondered about me at all; I thought about the band and about everything that happened, and I spent way too much time questioning if you still loved me. But you don't. I know that. It is extremely obvious, couldn't be clearer. I came to dinner to see if things are the same between us. I wanted to test the waters, so to speak, to see if maybe, just maybe things were as different as they were at the beginning of the end. They are. Very different. They always will be and I wish I could change it but it's not my fault. It's yours. Everyday I question how could you do that to someone you loved, and that is something I'll just never comprehend. Also, if this isn't a fucking good enough answer than I don't have a fucking clue what is. Nothing I ever do is good enough for you. Or none of it would have ever happened," Frank explains, exasperated, running a hand through his hair, grabbing on the ends tightly in his balled fist.
"Frank." It's all I can muster up. I bite my tongue, feel the tears well up and my heart beat mercilessly against my chest for escape. He's right. Nothing I could possibly say now could fix this.

To my luck, the waitress approaches the table, setting down our meals followed by our drinks before us, giving us a valid reason not to speak to one another. This gives me enough time to contemplate what I will say to Frank when I search and find the fitting words. That in itself is a strenuous task. I have no excuse for the past. No real reason for doing what I did. It just happened. It was a mistake.

I take my fork and jab lightly at my food, swirling it around in my bowl, mostly wasting time. All desire to eat has suddenly abandoned me and my body is heavy with emotion. I watch Frank in my peripheral as he eats his salad slowly staring out into the nightlife that takes place around our outside table, a warm, yet comfortable breeze whistles through the night, the flame of the candle upon our table dances happily. I don't move, but listen. Women laugh, lost in their conversations, the clicking of the heels on the ground are heard tagging along to the end of the queues for the clubs that move painfully slow with each new person that enters the world of distorted coloured lights, loud music and the bubbles float to their heads while they sway to the beat and dance away all troubles. I wish it were that easy for us.

~xoxoxoxo~

"Frank," I try again hopeful, when I finish my last mouthful of pasta.
"Yes,"
"I can't say I'm sorry can I?"
"It would be a first,"
"I've said it before,"
"Actually Gerard, you haven't. You haven't said much. It happened, and I left. Unexpectedly, you let me go. That's how I know the truth and how you honestly feel."
"Stop!" I demand. "You know Hesitant Alien?" I question stupidly.
"Of course,"
"Action Cat. 'Do you miss me? Cause I miss you,'" I sang softly. Franks face pulls into a very pleasing smile and the butterflies in my stomach escape happily, exploring further the taste of freedom.
"That's sweet. I'm done, you're done. Shall we go?"
"Okay," I smile at Frank, leaving the money on the table and together we make our way out and to the car.

Frank and I light a smoke each and Frank leans against the car while I stand in front of him. He exhaled the smoke to lose the demons that danced in his head. As did I, before coming to a realisation.
"Fuck it," I whispered, flicking my lit cigarette away. I rushed forward grabbing Franks face between my hands and hastily crashed my lips against his. Surprisingly he kissed back, each kiss becoming more and more gentle, until we came to a sweet stand still.
"Gerard," he hummed sweetly.
"Yes,"
"I'm sorry,"
"Let's go home,"

~xoxoxoxo~

Notes

New Chapter! Short and shitty. Sorry, had a writers block for a bit. still struggling. it will be okay.
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